


Future Diary -Teaser-

by TheHuggamugCafe



Category: Persona 5, 未来日記 | Mirai Nikki | Future Diary
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Reader-Insert, Yandere!Ren, human!Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 12:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: Love.Such a wonderful sensation; such a beautiful emotion to feel.However…Love can be responsible for so many things.Love will make people do things they wouldn’t normally do.Love made him fall for you.Love made him want you.Love made him want to have you for himself.No matter the cost.





	Future Diary -Teaser-

“Darling? Can you hear me? You can stop playing pretend now.”

“It was funny the first five minutes, but… You’re starting to worry me, love.”

“Hey. _Hey_. Stop playing around already.”

“Sweetheart. If you don’t answer me… I will be very _upset_ with you.”

Small, ragged pants left the chest of an 18-year-old high school student, his hands pressed over the chest of another 18-year-old high school student who lay on the ground in front of him. It was a girl, and a girl who was unnaturally still at that. A pair of round, black-framed glasses were off to the left, having been tossed aside in frustration mere moments ago. The spectacles’ glass frames were cracked, splattered with droplets of blood, both wet and dry.

The third-year swallowed a light gulp, his onyx eyes staring down at the unresponsive female senior, his hands folded over each other as he compressed the girl’s chest, trying to revive her… No, hoping to resuscitate her.

“Come on, darling, come on. Just breathe. That’s all you have to do now. Breathe,” he whispered to the unusually still high school girl, his voice hinting of the sheer desperation he felt as it bubbled up inside his chest.

The senior’s face was the picturesque example of a poker face, but the intensity of his onyx eyes, and the clear hints of heartache in his voice, in the words he uttered betrayed his true feelings. His pupils had shrunk to pin-sized pricks, small beads of sweat glistened as they trailed down from the perspiring crown of his forehead, and his hands were clammy, shaking.

“It’s over. It’s all over. Everything’s okay now. Understand? You understand right, sweetheart? You understand… You understand, don’t you? Don’t you!? If you understand, then answer me! Say something, please!”

The third-year’s voice possessed a dark undertone, his onyx eyes slowly but surely losing any warmth they might have previously held. The young man’s eyes shone with a cold light as they darkened, but he kept pushing his folded hands down over where he knew the still girl’s heart was, praying for a response.

A gasp or a whimper of pain. 

Fluttering eyelashes. 

Twitching fingers. 

A soft whisper of his name. 

A murmur of concern for him.

Anything at all would have been fine to the 18-year-old senior. A response would assure him that his love was safe, that she was okay, that the plan had worked just as he had promised her it would. More importantly… He would be assured that she was alive, above all else.

However…

There wasn’t a response.

No gasps or whimpers came from the unnaturally still girl. Her eyelashes didn’t flutter. Her fingers didn’t twitch or move in the slightest. No whispers came from her lips that were slowly taking on a light shade of blue. No murmurs came from the mouth he adored to kiss with his own, lick with his tongue, and gently nip with his teeth.

His love was completely still.

She was unresponsive in every sense of the word.

She wasn’t moving.

She wasn’t breathing at all.

She was… She was… She was… _She was-!_

“…No. No, no, no. It… It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 

Frantic whispers left his mouth, his hands shooting up from the girl’s chest as though he’d been jolted with an electric shock, as though a hot surge of lightning coursed through his fingers that tingled, his hands that trembled.

“I need to… I need to fix this… I need to fix _her_ … But how…?”

“Isn’t it obvious, you noob?”

A voice spoke from behind him, causing his attention to snap over his shoulder, staring at the owner of the voice as they—no, she—stepped out from the shadows.

“…It’s you…”

“The one and only,” came the nonchalant reply.

The senior’s onyx eyes continued to stare as the owner of the voice hummed, stepping forward with her hands clasped behind her back. The heels of the black knee-high boots she wore tap-tapped over the floor as she approached the frizzy haired, onyx eyed high school student. A mischievous smile curled her lips as she raised a hand, daintily readjusting the round glasses that were perched on her nose.

“So… You won the game to end all games, huh? You weren’t the golden egg the boss favoured, but meh… Who cares about that? You’re the new boss now… So, Boss…”

The third-year student narrowed his eyes at the title he was evidently saddled with, something which the girl took notice of. However, she simply shrugged her shoulders in an uncaring manner.

“Whatcha gonna do now?”

“…Take me to a world where she’s still alive.”

The request hung in the still air for a few moments, a few moments that felt like a fleeting glimpse of eternity before, finally, the girl’s glasses appeared to glint as she smiled, a laugh worthy of a trickster leaving her lips.

“’Kay, Boss.”

A psychedelic haze of red and black swirled before his vision, encompassing the mundane and sombre room, making way for a new world as it sucked him into a brief, dream-like state that took the form of a deep, soothing shade of velvet blue.

This would be his second chance to set things right; he wouldn’t forgive himself for any mistakes this time.

This time he would see to it that she lived, no matter what.

This time he would see to it that she emerged from this preposterous game as the crowned victor, a lone goddess worthy of ascending to the throne she deserved to sit on.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do if it was for her sake, but more importantly… Above everything else…

She had to survive.

His entire plan hinged on her perseverance. If she happened to die at any point, he would simply ask a certain someone to reset the world and start all over again.

He would make certain that she alone survived. He burned with resolve as hard as a steel blade put to a blacksmith’s forge, determined to see his plan come to fruition.

He would do anything, anything at all to ensure she lived to the end, however bitter it may be.

If they posed a danger to his love’s safety, he would even kill those who weren’t participants.

He thought it was unfair that the light in his dark life was one of the participants chosen by some God, a God who’d spent who-knew-how-many millennia on the throne. To him, it was unjust for his love to be one of the twelve poor, dismal souls chosen to participate in a free-for-all game that pitted stranger against stranger, family member against family member and, if the participants were really unlucky, lover against lover.

All he wanted was to live a long, happy life with his beloved, but unfortunately, the twisted kill-or-be-killed game prevented him from living the one good dream he wanted to become reality. What he wanted to have more than anything else in the whole world. He was forbidden from realizing his most treasured dream, wanting to be with the one who caught his eye, who ensnared his sanity, and who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

However, now…

Now all he could do was traverse to another world she resided in but, sadly, didn’t accept him. A world where she didn’t even recognize that he existed at all—but that was alright. He was fine with that. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest if she knew of him.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t acknowledge him, either. Because…

If she didn’t _acknowledge him_ … He would make her notice him.

If she didn’t _accept him_ … He would befriend her, offer a reassuring shoulder to lean on, playing his part as a concerned acquaintance.

If she didn’t _love him_ … As he had done before, he would steal her affections before she knew what happened.

She’d plead for his assistance; he knew she would. Her chances of surviving on her own were slim at best, and nonexistent at worst. Once she affirmed the dire consequences for what they were, a sure-fire death sentence for her… Once she accepted the nightmarish reality to not be a dream, but a cold, hard slap to her beautiful face…

She would come running into his arms, asking for his protection, begging for his help.

The thought brought a cocky grin to his lips, a rare and uncharacteristic expression for someone who appeared to be a quiet, soft-spoken, and mild-mannered high school student. It was an expression he wouldn’t pull off around just any random person.

The smug smirk that curled his lips. The smile that betrayed a glint of his pearly whites.

Such a cocksure visage was reserved for one person and only one person.

The only one who could cause such a reaction was the same person whom he loved with every fibre in his body.

The one who could cause happy, pleasant feelings to stir inside him. Feelings that no one else aroused in him.

The person in question was a girl, an 18-year-old senior who attended his school.

The girl he’d _kill_ for.

The girl he’d _die_ for.

That girl was none other than _you_.


End file.
